A few years later, I found “Golden Retriever Puppies for Sale” when I went to the market in Orem. There was one left. The family selling the puppies lived in Wallsburg, a little way past Sundance. I told them to call if he did not find a home.

Putting away the groceries, I told Dwight about the puppy. He said, “We need a touch of gold around the house.”

The next morning, we picked up Midas.

* * *

“I love Himalayan cats,” noted Dwight.

“Okay,” I replied.

“After a shoot, we gave a hippy Playmate a Himalayan kitten. She loved the kitten like crazy.”

“Okay,” I repeated.

Then, I looked at the hardwood floor where our Samoyed and Golden Retriever were resting. Our home had a light layer of fur on the furniture and floor at all times.

“Really?” I asked. “There is so much fur around this house.”

A few weeks later, Dwight’s daughter and son-in-law visited from Canada. We found a “Himalayan” kitten in Orem. I explained, “Your dad really wants a kitty.”

We brought the kitten home.

Dwight exclaimed, “Oh, the cat, MANDU.”

I believed Mandu was Himalayan. Turns out, he was a Maine Coon.

* * *

When Dwight and I lived separately, Cooey, my friends’ dog, had puppies. There were only two in the litter.

I planned to adopt the male, but called Dwight in tears saying, “I can’t name a dog without you.”

“Well, you’re a teacher. I always thought if I had an all black dog, I would call him ‘Booker T. Washington.’”